


You Are Number Four

by nerdyiceskater



Category: The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: M/M, stohn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyiceskater/pseuds/nerdyiceskater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after The Revenge of Seven. John has been brought under the mind control of Setrakas Ra. The Garde struggle to find a way to restore John's mind. only one person is able to achieve this, and it turns out to be the most unlikely person.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Number Four

(Number Nine)

Something's wrong, I think. Somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach there's a lingering feeling, like I ate some bad nachos. I stand up on my feet and regain my composure. I survey my surroundings, taking in everything. Five is nowhere to be seen, that coward. My knuckles are caked in blood and dirt, not to mention just about every other part of my body.

There's a sharp pain in my side. I lift up my shirt to reveal what looks like a broken rib and some gnarly looking scrapes and bruises. Johnny should be able to heal these for me, I think. John. I look around hastily trying to locate him in the chaos and destruction, but he’s nowhere to be seen. The feeling in my stomach becomes more prominent.

Something is definitely not right here. I try to think where I saw John last, and remember he was with Sam. I redirect my attention to locating Sam instead. I almost begin to panic, thinking he’s gone too, but then I see him, lying on the ground. I use my super speed and run over to him. I immediately check his pulse, but my hands are shaking so bad I can barely keep them in one spot.

Shit, Nine. Pull yourself together, I think. I try a new tactic, using my far superior hearing to listen for a beat. It takes a while, but I finally pick up a faint beat. He’s still alive, but barely. I try to lift his body so that I can take him someplace safer, but pain rips my entire body. I gasp and clutch my side. Alright, Plan B, I think.

“Sam!” I shout, slapping his face. Nothing. I try the same tactic again. Still nothing. “Please don’t make me have to use mouth-to-mouth,” I whine with a little too much exaggeration. “Come on, Sam!” I shake him by the shoulders. “Sam! Wake the hell up!” I slap him one last time and that does the trick. He jolts awake, sitting up so fast I barely have time to move to escape a full on head collision.

“John, stop!” he shouts. I freeze. What’s wrong with John?

“Sam!”

He turns around and looks at me, enraged. “Nine? Where the hell have you been?”

“I was uhh…well, fighting with Five. If that bastard is anything, it’s persistent,” I reply, trying to use a joking tone of voice, but I can tell Sam isn’t in the mood. “What happened to John?” I ask more seriously.

“I’m not sure. One minute we were fighting together, but then he just kind of stopped. It was weird, like he was in some sort of trance. Next thing I know he turns around and starts to fight me. I tried to stop him, but he knocked me down. It was a really hard blow, considering I blacked out. It's strange, though,” Sam replies, "Right before I went unconscious I swear I saw him making his way to Setràkas Ra's ship." Sam rubs his temples as if he’s trying to recover more details to his story.

“What-what are you talking about?” I manage to ask. "Why would John start fighting you? Why would he go toward Ra?"

"Why the hell do you think I would know?" Sam replies, bluntly.

This doesn’t make any sense. Johnny is our leader. Why would he just up and start fighting his friend?

"We need to find the others," I say.

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Sam asks.

I actually don't have an answer. If John were here he'd have an answer, I think to myself. "John would know what to do," I mumble.

"Well, John seems to have decided to go after Ra, or something."

"Then that's what we need to do," I reply, standing up.

"Are you sure that's the best idea?" Sam asks, raising his eyebrows questioningly. "You look like shit. There's no way you're going to be able to fight Ra. And don't you think we should try to contact the others first?"

I decide to ignore that first part. "Oh yeah, let me just get out my cell phone and hit 'em up!" I spit out, scowling.

"We need to come up with a better plan than just recklessly going after John," Sam glares at me, standing firm.

I hate to admit, but the kid's probably right. I relax my body a bit, giving in. "Alright. What do you have in mind?"

"First, we should find shelter. We're no good to anyone if we'r dead because the Mogs found us," Sam says.

We decide to settle down in an abandoned apartment building, then start brainstorming ideas.

(Number Four)

I stand at one of the many giant windows on the ship, watching the chaos unfold on the earth below. Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain radiate through my skull. I wince, clutching my head with one hand and placing the other on the window to stabilize myself. For a fleeting moment I think to myself that I need to be down there, defending the humans, but just for a moment. The pain ceases and I straighten up. Beloved Leader said he needed to speak to me about something. As soon as my mind is rid of the haze, I hear the sound of large, pounding footsteps. That must be him, I think. My stomach does a flip.

"Four!" He bellows.

I face him and bow. "Yes, Beloved Leader?" For some reason the words produce a sour taste in my mouth, as if I shouldn't be saying them. I immediately dismiss this thought. Setrákas Ra lifts his hand, and I stand back up.

"I'd like you to meet someone," he says, then motions behind him. Two Mogadorien scouts step aside to reveal a young girl. Somewhere in the back of my mind I feel a little pulse. Do I know this girl? I think. No, that's impossible. I dismiss the strange feeling in the back of my mind.

When she sees me, her eyes widen in shock, and she looks...relieved.

"John!" She shouts at me, attempting to break away from the Scouts holding her at bay.

I'm shocked. Does this small child know me?

"Do you know who this girl is?" The Beloved Leader asks me. The lingering feeling in the back of my mind piques, then subsides again, like a pulse. I take one more look at her, and see her smiling face. In the very pit of my stomach I can feel it churn, but I can't grasp why.

"No, Sir," I reply with confidence, turning my attention from her back to Beloved Leader. Out of the corner of my eye though, I see the little girl's face drop.

Setrákas Ra smiles at me, then signals to the Scouts that they are dismissed. The two salute, then turn and walk out, pulling the girl out with them. She fights them, trying to kick and push them away, but they're far too strong for her.

"John!" She shouts as they drag her away. One of the Scouts removes some sort of weapon and touches the tip to the girl's neck. She cries out, and her body shakes. Her body goes limp, and the Scouts continue to drag her out of the room, then shut the doors behind them.

"Sir," I begin, "Who was that girl?"

Setrákas Ra grins at me. "That, my boy, was a Loric."

I feel rage flash through me at the mention of "Loric", but I can't quite grasp why. I feel another pulse deep in the back of my mind. Part of me hates the Loric; they are the enemy. But the other part, the part in the deep recesses of my mind, is trying to tell me something different.

I groan out loud, rubbing my temples. I feel like I may be sick. What the hell is wrong with me? I think.

"Four? My boy, what's the matter?"

I cringe at the voice. I'm suddenly filled with rage at the sound of this thing in front of me. A flash of images roll across my vision. I cry out. I see faces, places. One of the faces is the girl from earlier. Ella. I remember her name is Ella.

Four. I am Number Four.

Another crash of memories rips through my skull. I cry out again and fall to my knees.

"You-what did you do to me?" I shout at the Mog leader. That's all I manage to get out before I hear a giant crack and then everything goes black.

I awake in a dark room. Immediately I observe my surroundings. The room appears to be a perfect square, concrete on all sides. It's completely empty besides for the bed I'm currently occupying and a small chair in the corner. I don't notice at first, but there's a large figure seated in the chair. I sit upright, preparing myself for anything. The figure stirs.

"Ahh," he bellows, " You're finally awake."

I recognize the voice as Setrákas Ra's, the beloved Mogadorien leader. I relax. "Yes, Beloved Leader," I respond.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes."

"Good! How do you feel?" He asks me.

"Great, sir. Ready to fight for Mogadorien Progress," I reply, clenching my fists.

"That's great to hear, my boy. Get ready. We need your assistance," the Beloved Leader says as he stands, motioning for me to follow. I throw my legs over the bed, standing up next to him. He hands me standard Mogadorien armour that I hadn't noticed he'd been holding. I take it, and bow.

"Get dressed then meet me in the main lobby. I'll give you your assignment there," Setrákas Ra says, then presses his palm to one of the stone walls. The wall groans, then it splits into two sections. They slowly grind away from each other, revealing an opening. Setrákas Ra steps out, and then the two doors slowly return to their original positions, leaving me alone in the dark room.

I quickly change into the armour given to me, then hesitantly press my palm to the same spot as the Beloved Leader’s. At first, I’m worried nothing will happen, but then the doors begin to open, and I step into a bright hallway. I feel a bit disoriented at first, but I recover quickly and begin making my way to the ship's main corridor.

When I reach the area, I see my Beloved Leader standing in the middle. Two warriors dressed in the same sleek body armor I'm wearing stand next to him, one on each side. I stand in front of him and bow until the Mogadorien leader motions for me to rise.

"Four," Setrákas Ra begins, "You will be working alongside these two fine warriors for your first assignment."

I nod at each warrior, acknowledging them, and they reciprocate.

Beloved Leader begins speaking again. "The battle below us has just begun. It won't be over until the Mogodorians are victorious, and the Loric scum are wiped out, leaving the remaining humans in the palm of my hand," he says, making eye contact with each of us individuals. "Your assignment is to eradicate anything threatening Mogadorien Progress."

"Yes, Beloved Leader," all three of us chant in unison, saluting.

Setrákas Ra turns away from us, motioning for us to follow him as he walks toward a platform. The ship we're on, the Anubis, flys low over New York. I see chaos and destruction everywhere. I let a small grin slip across my face. We're winning. Those Loric scum don't stand a chance.

The two other Mogadorian warriors and I are transported to the smoldering earth below. We walk straight, searching for any signs of life, passing abandoned building after another. I'm about to suggest we move elsewhere, when I hear a small noise. I whip my head in its direction, towards a half destroyed apartment building. I move towards it with caution, one hand never leaving the blaster at my side. I listen closely for any signs of life within the building.

(Number Nine)

Sam and I hide, hoping the Mog advancing on our building decides there's nothing worth finding over here. There's only three of them outside the building in total, and I contemplate just taking them down. I glance at Sam. He seems to know what I'm thinking because he nods.

Earlier when we were contemplating our next move, Sam explained to me his newfound gift: telekinesis. I asked him why he hadn't decided to mention this earlier. His response was simply, "It never came up."

I start to move from our hiding spot, taking out my staff in the process. Sam slides over next to me. I hear the sound of a blaster cocking, and then a brilliant blue flash blazes across what would be the lobby of the apartment building. I grit my teeth. The shot flew by a little to close for comfort. I jump out from my hiding spot, running toward the Mog. I swing my staff. My side screams at me, the pain almost unbearable. Nevertheless, I follow through, and I strike the Mog’s hands. He cries out in pain and the blaster falls from his hands. Sam uses his telekinesis to swipe the blaster. He almost hits himself in the face, still getting used to the legacy, but manages to grab ahold of the weapon.

The Mog looks at me, straight in the eyes, and I see that this Mog isn't a Mog at all. It's John. Except replacing the beautiful blue eyes I fell in-remember are two black orbs, like the Mogodorians. I lower my staff. My chest tightens.

"John?..." I whisper, stepping foreward slightly. I signal for Sam to stand down.

The M-or John-or whatever he is-reaches behind him, unsheathing a large, glittery silver sword. A malicious smile splits his face as he brings the blade down towards me. I barely react in time, using my telekinesis to stop him from splitting my skull.

"John!" I shout at him, ripping the sword from his grip and tossing it aside. He lunges forward, knocking me down. If I wasn't fearing for my life, I'd have though John being on top of me was sexy, but the immense weight threatens to break my already broken ribs. I feel blood trickling down my side. John looks like he’s winding up to punch me, but I use my telekinesis to prevent him from moving.

John hisses in frustration.

"John!" I shout again, hoping I can get through to him somehow. "It's me! It's Nine!" I force him to look me in the eyes. My stomach churns as I see his fully-black eyes again. "Look at me," I demand, grasping the sides of his face with my hands. My initial motive was just to keep his head in place, but I can't help myself when I begin to trace his chiseled features with my fingers. One hand slides back behind his ear, slipping through his shaggy, blonde hair. I feel his resistance lessen, and for one split second his eyes flash back to their gorgeous blue. I release my telekinetic hold. I think I'm finally getting through to him, but then the other Mogs storm through the front door (if you can call it a front door), and John's eyes return to their black state. I'm caught off guard and he grasps my neck between his hands, choking me.

I hear blaster fire in all directions. I use all my strength to try to get MogJohn to release his grip on my, but he's just so damn strong. Nine, stop! You're not going to die because you were too busy swooning, I tell myself. My vision starts to get a bit blurry, but then I feel the weight on me being lifted.

Sam.

I muster up some more strength and grab MogJohn's wrists and pry them from my neck. I roll out from under him and gasp for air. I attempt to shout at Sam to tell him to run, but all that comes out is a series of violent coughs and wheezes. I try again, “Sam! Run!” I rasp out. Luckily, he hears me. Using the blaster, he creates a giant hole in the back of the building, then escapes through it. Once I get my feet underneath me, I follow, and we leave the Mog warriors and MogJohn behind.

(Number Four)

I let out a growl of frustration. Somehow, two Garde scum were able to slip past me. Don't say that. A voice pulses through my skull. I massage my temples, letting out a harsher growl. One of the other warriors approaches me.

"Get up. We must continue patrolling the streets," he utters in thick Mogadorian. At least, that's what I think he said. For a minute I couldn't understand what the warrior was saying.

I decide to just nod, immediately rising to my feet. That must have been the correct response. The warrior hands me my sword. I take it without a word and sheath the weapon.

Why couldn't I understand my own language?

Because it's not your own language.

I flinch. There's that damn voice again. I shake my head. I'm going crazy. The other two warriors eye me, but I motion towards what used to be the entrance of the building, and the three of us exit, resuming our assigned mission.

I slightly fall behind the two as we traverse the streets. I need to get my shit together. I can not mess up my first mission. I clutch my forehead, struggling not to cry out as a piercing pain splits through my skull.

Images flash across my vision in a blur, and I can hardly make any sense of them. I fall to my knees, disoriented. Out of the chaos spewing through my mind, there's one figure I can make out. It's a boy with long black hair and smirk pasted on his face. I feel a sensation in my heart, but I can't quite place what it is. I know this boy, but I don't know how, or why it seems as though his image makes my heart flutter. Then a gruff voice pulls me back to reality.

"Hey, get up. There's no slacking on this job. You must stay alert."

The world around me stabilizes slowly. Once I can confirm to myself I'm still on solid ground, I rise to my feet.

"My apologies. Let's continue," I reply, pushing forward.

What the hell is going on with me?

(Number Nine)

Sam and I run as far as we can from the dilapidated building. After what feels like forever, we stop to catch our breath, standing in what was probably a park before the Mogs blasted the whole damn place. I stumble over to a tree stump and try to gather my bearings.

What the hell happened to John?

I slide my fingers through my thick, black hair and grab it, threatening to pull it out. Sam rather ungracefully falls to the ground next to my feet, panting heavily. 

"Was-that-," Sam says between deep breaths.

"Yeah, that was Johnny," I whisper. I struggle so hard to collect my thoughts I barely notice that the world suddenly seems to be getting much darker. I look up to sky, seeing not the sky, but the underside of a ship. My initial thought is Shit! It's the Mogs! But the longer I sat there staring, I realized that this ship had a familiar look to it.

Then it hit me: this is our ship, or more specifically, the ship that brought eighteen scared Loric to Earth so many years ago. I immediately rise to me feet.

"Sam, look!" I point towards the sleek figure in the sky.

"Is that...?" He asks.

"The Loric ship," I reply, awestruck.

"Where's it going?" Sam scratches his head, no longer laying on the ground.

"It looks like it's trying to find a place to land...," I say.

The ship slowly grows as it descends to the open ground. Finally, it reaches its destination and flawlessly lands on the burnt grass. Whoever's piloting that ship obviously knows what they're doing. Sam begins to move forward, but I reach out an arm and stop him.

"Wait," I warn, "We don't know who or what's in there."

Sam backs down and we wait for...well...anything, I guess.

The door opens and a familiar voice calls out our names.

It's Six.

She's soon followed by Sarah, and they both run toward us.

Once Sam realizes who it is, he runs towards Six. Their bodies collide into a tight hug. While those two have their moment, I make my way over to the ship. Sarah sees me and smiles, which I reciprocate. She wraps her arms around me in a quick hug, and I give her a pat on the back. From the opening of the ship I see Adam, Marina, and Ella walk out, along with a young male, whom I don't recognize.

"Who's that?" I ask, nodding towards him.

"That's Mark," Sarah replies.

"Ahh, the ex," I say, bouncing my eyebrows.

Sarah rolls her eyes.

Another figure comes out of the ship. She's tall with flawless dark skin, and damn is she fine.

Sarah catches me staring and smirks. "That's Lexa. She's our pilot, and," she pauses for dramatic effect, "She's Loric."

Wait. What?

"She's what?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"She was the pilot that flew the ship Crayton and Ella were on," Sarah explains.

I nod.

"She and Mark were working together, you could say. We can explain everything later," she says.

Everyone begins to come together, and we finish greeting each other. Marina heals my injuries, then I lift up a giggling Ella into a big hug. After, Sarah asks the question I'd been dreading.

"Hey, where's John?"

My chest tightens. How am I supposed to tell her that her boyfriend turned dark side? Maybe I can write her a nice letter with scented pages.

"He's been...uh...compromised," I mumble.

"What do you mean?" Sarah's eyes narrow.

"What I mean is Johnny's gone psycho and is working with the Mogs," the words flow from my mouth. Well...that's one way to put it.

Sarah gives a half-hearted laugh. "You're joking, right? Please, tell me you're screwing with me," Sarah's voice shakes, but I'm surprised at how composed she appears.

I just simply shake my head.

Sarah looks like she wants to cry, but instead she closes her eyes and draws in a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds, then releasing. "Then we better go find him," Sarah declares. Her voice is hollow, but definite. She begins to make her way towards the Loric ship, as if ready to just leave now. I reach out and grab her arm.

"Woah, woah there sweetheart. We can't just waltz over there with no plan and expect Johnny to just come with us. That's not gonna fly," I speak with a firm voice.

Sarah's laugh is venomous. "That's funny, Nine. Aren't you usually the one that recklessly gets into fights?"

"Don't turn this into me," I hiss. "We'll get your damn boyfriend back, but we have to do it properly."

"Isn't John usually the one to make the plans though?" She spits out.

"I think we can all manage to scrape a little more effort together to come up with a plan. Or is that too hard?" My voice raises.

"Guys, knock it off!" Adam commands, pushing between me and Sarah, placing a hand on each of our chests. "Fighting is definitely not going to assist us in procuring John." Adam turns to face Sarah. "Nine is correct. We need a plan. However," Adam turns to me, "We need to do it calmly." Adam let's his arms fall.

The others gather around us, cautiously, like Sarah and I might lash out at any moment. I step back, nodding. "You got any ideas, Mog-boy?" I ask while raising an eyebrow.

"As a matter of fact, I think I may have the beginnings of a plan," Adam informs. 

"Well, let's hear it."

We all gather around Adam as he lays out his ideas before us.

(Number Four)

Our mission goes on uneventful, and we make our way back to Anubis. My brain is still pounding, but there hasn't been any more flashing images or voices or whatever other screwy things that could happen.

All I want to do is sleep, but the three of us must report to Setrákas Ra about our mission. I follow the other to warriors down a long corridor until we reach a room with double doors. Two vat-born Mogadorians stand guard on either side of the doors. Once we get close, both Mogadorians salute us. We nod, acknowledging their gesture.

“We request permission to see Beloved Leader,” one of the warriors states.

“We must decline your request. Beloved Leader has informed us not to allow anyone access to him at this time,” the guard on the left replies.

“We just returned from our mission, and it is protocol to report to Beloved Leader immediately,” the same warrior explains to the guard.

“That is understood, but we have our orders.”

There’s a long silence that appears to drone on for hours. I wonder why we cannot speak to Beloved Leader at this time? Is there a problem? Finally, the head warrior speaks.

“Inform Setrákas Ra of our attempt to follow protocol.”

“Affirmative.”

At that, we leave. The assumed leader of our group appears disgruntled. I start to feel worried. This doesn’t appear to be a normal occurrence.

“Report to your quarters and await further instruction there,” the lead warrior orders.

We salute each other, then part.

I make the trek to my room alone, pondering the disturbance of protocol. I enter my small room, and peel off my armour. I throw on a black t-shirt and a pair of black pajama bottoms that were issued to me. However, before I can call it a night, I must make a record of the events during our mission. I find a tablet sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. I pick it up then turn it on. There’s a single program, which I open it. I begin typing, recounting everything that occurred.

Once I finish, I power the tablet down and place it back onto the chair. Finally able to get some sleep, I turn off the light, then peel back the covers and slide underneath.

Right when I feel myself drifting off to the dream world, an agonizing pain rips through my skull. I roar, clutching my head with both hands. I roll myself into a ball. Remember! a voice thunders. The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place its identity. The stream of images from earlier flash across my vision. I see the boy with long black hair again. His cobalt-blue eyes are fierce, yet they provide a feeling of warmth. The image of him disappears, and I almost feel...disappointed. The slideshow on steroids continues. The warmth I had felt while seeing the image of the boy has been replaced with panic. My chest heaves and my heart rate soars. Images of other strangers become clearer: a girl with blonde hair and bright blue eyes; a boy with thick glasses, which transitions to an image of the saem boy without the glasses; another girl with raven hair, then the same girl with blonde hair.

Who are all these people?

You have to remember! the voice screams, its voice vibrating through my brain.

“Remember what?” I shout.

Who you are!

Then the chaos ceases. I’m back in my dark room lying on the bed. My skin is sticky with sweat. I slowly release the tension in my muscles, then sit on the edge of bed trying to catch my breath. My head is swimming. Why do I need to remember who I am? I know who I am! I’m a true-born Mogadorian warrior.

Or am I?

I let out a groan of frustration. I can’t do this right now. I lie back down underneath the thin sheet. My eyelids fall closed, and I sleep.

(Number Nine)

“There’s no way in Hell that’s going to work,” I declare, staring at Adam in disbelief.

Adam rolls his eyes while flipping his hair away from his face. “Trust me, it’ll work.”

Six interjects with, “I don’t know…Adam may be onto something. Not only does this plan allow us to save John, but it could help us find Ella too.”

I stare at both of them in disbelief. If we’re going to save John’s life, we can’t be reckless. The plan has to actually go according to…well…plan.

“This is Johnny’s life we’re talking about here. And Ella's,” I say, though everyone seems to be on Adam’s side.

Adam straightens his spine. “All in favor of my plan raise your hand.”

All except me complied. I scan my friends in disbelief.

“Guys, you can’t be serious?” I ask.

“It’s a good plan, Nine, and I think it’s one that will actually work,” Marina responds in a soft tone. Everyone nods in agreement.

I feel my shoulder’s slump in defeat. “Alright well, if we’re doing this we better get some rest. The last thing we need is someone falling asleep while we’re trying to save Johnny’s ass,” I joke, winking. “I’ll go ahead and take watch.”

Once I was satisfied the entire group was fast asleep, I snuck off. I devised a plan of my own; one I knew would actually work. Maybe. Okay, one I hoped would work. I make my way to what one could loosely call civilization. I know from experience that there will be Mogs patrolling the streets, which is what I want.

I move through the decimated city with caution, using my Legacy to listen for any approaching Mogs. For this plan to work I need these asshats to only think they caught me. Hopefully none of the other members of Garde and Co. have woken up. The last thing I need is someone else in danger.

I hear the familiar guttural voices of two Mogadorian scouts not too far away. Not too far for me at least. I use my speed Legacy, making it there in no time. I hide behind the wall of a crumbled building and watch the Mogs. They move cautiously, searching for any signs of life, i.e. me. I take a deep breath to prepare myself, then shuffle out into night while making some noticeable noise. Suddenly, I feel a heavy hand land on my shoulder.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” One of the Mogadorians growls into my ear. I gag a little at the stench of his breath.

“You, sir, are in dire need of a mint. Have you ever heard of brushing your teeth?” I reply.

“Why are you out here alone young Garde?” The second Mog has now made his way to my other side.

“Oh, y’know, I was trying to get some fresh air, but if you guys are out here breathing, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

The Mogadorian with his hand on my shoulder lets out a sinister chuckle before he pushes me to the ground and plants a heavy boot on my back. I feel something placed around my wrists and a click like something being locked into place. I snort.

“If you two think handcuffs are going to work, then you’re dumber than I thought.”

“These aren’t just any handcuffs.” The Mog with his nasty boot on my back speaks. “Beloved Leader custom made these for you and your race.”

As the Mog says that, I feel a familiar sensation. It’s the same feeling as when Setrákus Ra uses his Dreynan against us.

Shit.

The Mogs yank me to my feet. “Beloved Leader will want to deal with you himself. You’re coming with us.”

The next thing I know a pale fist is thrust into my face, and then everything goes black.

I groan, rapidly blinking to focus my vision. I rub the back of my head, feeling the slightest curve of a knot that has formed. There’s also a spot on my cheek I can feel throbbing. No doubt there’s a bruise there. Once I’m able to focus, I notice that I’m in a concrete cell, not unlike the one I was held captive in for years; the one John saved me from. Then he unceremoniously threw himself into a force field. Not the brightest, but he’s definitely pretty, so I guess that makes up for it.

I groan again. I came here to save John, but now it seems I’ve just gotten myself in some deep shit. I sit up slowly, my entire body rejecting the act. I shake my head, hoping that will somehow clear my mind. I inhale a deep breath, then push myself up to a standing position, leaning on the wall for support. Once the black swirls in my vision disappear and the fuzziness in my head dissipates, I find that I can manage to stand by myself. I begin to slowly make my way to the rusty metal bars that make up the cell’s door, and notice the faintest pulse of a force field. Before I can get one step though, I hear a march of heavy boots on the floor, and feel completely drained. I look up and immediately scowl. I’m greeted by Setrákus Ra and his entourage of soldiers. Ra’s Dreynan must be taking effect.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Ra bellows.

“Yeah, here I am,” I respond, crossing my arms across my chest. “I see you have your groupies with you. Too scared to face me one on one?”

Ra lets out a sinister chuckle. “I don’t think you’re in a position to make jokes, boy.”

“I’m always in a position to make jokes, but that wasn’t one, mate,” I reply, with the most innocent smile I could plaster across my face.

Ra loses his venomous half-grin. “Enough of this worthless chatter. I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Ra, we barely know each other. Isn’t it a little too early for you to be introducing me to your mother? I mean, I’m flattered, really, but c’mon,” I flash a wink just for kicks, trying to hide the fact that my stomach was doing somersaults.

Ra doesn’t give me a response. Figures. Then I hear a hissing sound, and see the force field slowly dissipate. Setrákus moves closer to my cell, over to the side, and lifts his finger, stabbing it at what I assume is a key pad by the various blips. I see the bars shake, then hear the crunch of metal sliding on metal. Two of Setrákus Ra’s groupies immediately rush in and, rather unnecessarily rough, cuff my arms behind my back.

“Woah, guys, I’m all for the kinky stuff,” I joke, “But this is a bit too much, even for me.”

I’m given a harsh shove forward as a response.

“Alright, I get, I get it,” I release a heavy breath. “No more jokes.”

Setrákus Ra and his goons lead me down a series of identical dark, brooding corridors that seemed to be designed with no rhyme or reason whatsoever.

“Quite a Labyrinth you’ve got here, Ra,” I mumble. “How big is this ship?”

Finally, we reach our destination, which appears to be a giant, bare room. Once we’re inside and the door is sealed, one of the Mogs removes the cuffs, but I’m still held firmly in place. I take a good look of the room. It reminds me of a training room. The walls are gray and bare, with a slightly darker gray hexagonal floor. The majority of the floor was slightly raised, like a platform. The ceiling is white with rows of evenly spaced lights across it. What could we be doing here? I ask myself, as I’m pushed to the center of the room atop the platform. Then, I notice a tall figure in the one of the dark corners of the room. I don’t recognize him immediately because of the standard Mogadorian attire, a hood covering the figure’s features, but when they lift their head, there’s no mistaking who the figure is, despite the eyes being swallowed by blackness.

It’s John.

My stomach simultaneously rises up to my throat and drops to my feet. My body tenses.

John speaks calmly, though his voice is unfamiliar. “Who’s this?” he questions, with a sneer.

Pull yourself together, I scold myself. Don’t do anything revealing or what Ra might want, I remind myself.

Fuck it.

Using all the strength I can muster, I twist spasmodically, struggling to get away from my restrainers. “John!” I shout. “John! It’s me-.” I’m cut off my a heavy-booted kick to the back of my knee. A strangled noise escapes my lips as I sink to the cool ground. I watch Setrákus Ra as he steps forward towards John.

“Four, my boy! There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he sneers.

“Who is that pathetic boy?” he spits out his words towards me.

“This,” Ra points, “Is lucky Garde Number Nine.”

John’s breath catches in his throat in a slight gasp, then his face contorts into a deep glare full of hatred. “You mean, he’s one of them?” The last word practically dripped with venom.

“Yes, Four. I have a special assignment I want you to do for me as well,” Ra’s tone was light, but his face was full of contempt.

“Name it, Beloved Leader.”

Ra leans in closer to John, then utters two words: “Kill him.”

(Number Four)

Immediately I throw myself at the Garde with a scream, swinging my silver sword in a swift arc from its sheath to in front of me, pointed at the parasite. The soldiers leave Number Nine then march hastily over to Setrákus Ra’s side to get out of the way. The Garde sees me, immediately taking a defensive stance. My sword slices downward toward his skull, but he swiftly ducks to the side. I feel a dull thunk against the armor I’m wearing as the boy’s foot connects with my side. This Number Nine is fast, I’ll give him that. There’s something a bit charming about him as well; his long hair and glittering eyes.

“John!” he shouts from a distance.

Why does he keep yelling John?

“It’s me! It’s Nine!”

Why must he keep talking?

I carve my sword around, making up for the momentum from missing the Garde. I begin to swing at Number Nine again when an agonizing pulse rips through my skull.

You’re John! The voice yells at me. I trip but manage to stay on my feet. With my free hand I grip my head, releasing a harsh cry.

You’re John! You’re Number Four! You have to remember!

“Shut up!” I growl.

The Garde takes this moment to kick at my hand holding the sword, and I barely hear it skitter away.

(Number Nine)

I take advantage of the state John’s in. I throw myself forward, tackling him to the ground, pinning his arms on either side of his head. Somehow this is not how I imagined the first time I’d be on top John. I stare into his lifeless eyes, completely black. But then I notice the slight flicker of an ocean blue, like a single pulse, so faint I might have imagined it. I feel my stomach flip. I grit my teeth. My heart begins beating rapidly.

“John, John you have to listen to me!” Oh God, am I pleading? Coming out of his fog, John thrashes and twists, trying to get out from underneath me.

“My name’s not John!” he screams maniacally.

“Yes, it is!” I retort matching his ferocity. “You’re John! You’re part of Garde from planet Lorien. You’re a complete ass, but you’re our leader,” I let out a soft chuckle. “Without you around we’re all a bunch of helpless puppies.”

John seems to have calmed down, as well as compelled to listen to what I have to say.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a Mogadorien soldier. My sole purpose is to serve my Beloved Leader, Setrákus Ra,” he spits the words.

“No it’s not,” I groan, rolling my eyes. “Your sole purpose is to wipe his ugly face from existence.”

“You’re mad. You and your kind. You’re parasites on this planet and every planet,” John speaks through grit teeth.

Before I can reply, I hear a deep voice bellow from afar, “Get on with it! Four, dispose of that worthless being!”

John uses my lack of concentration as an outlet to flip me over and escape from underneath my body. I’m unable to get to my feet before a heavy boot strikes my ribcage, and I let out a strangled breath.

(Number Four)

I hear a crack as I kick the boy lying on the ground again. My rage and hatred for the Garde burns, propelling my leg. I have no doubts one of his ribs has snapped, but he doesn’t let out so much as a slightly heavier release of air, and I have to give him props.

“John,” I’m barely able to hear his strangled voice. Number Nine’s left eye is practically swollen shut with a bruise already forming, and his face is streaked with blood. There’s no doubt his nose is broken as well. I crouch down and yank his long, black hair, turning his face towards mine. His eyes face is determined and strong, but in his eyes I see his sadness and helplessness. Suddenly, I feel a lump form in my throat, but I don’t know why. I should be disgusted by this show of vulnerability.

_Oh God, did I do this?_

Damn this voice!

“Johnny, I know you can recognize me, you just have to push. I know somewhere buried deep the Johnny I know is fighting to escape. Listen to him. You’re Johnny. You are Number Four,” Number Nine speaks softly, his voice strong yet calm despite his current state.

I stare at the boy, finally getting a good look at him, then I have a realization: I know this boy. I’ve seen him before, during my flashes. A skull-splitting pulse rips through my brain, and I release my grip on Number Nine’s hair.

_That’s Nine! Look at him! Remember!_

Both my hands fly up to the sides of head and I let loose a harsh cry. Through my pain I feel a hand rest upon my shoulder, and I look to see Nine with a fixed expression on his face. Images flash across my vision. Though most of them are to quick to decipher, I catch the one’s of the Garde in front of me. A pang of…something-longing?-rips through my chest.

“I-I-,” I gulp thickly, unable to utter anything else.

“Not only are you Number Four, leader of the Garde, but you’re also…,” Nine’s other hand raises to cup my cheek, the one on my shoulder sliding up to my other cheek. I shudder. “You’re also-,” Nine’s voice hitches, and it looks as though he’s having trouble finding his words. The Garde’s head falls, and I see him take in a shaky, raspy breath.

“Alright, fuck this,” I hear Number Nine mutter to himself. “I’m in love with you, Johnny,” he states plainly, not looking at me.

(Number Nine)

“Wh-what?” I hear John stammer. I still avert my gaze from him, unable to meet his eyes.

“Oh God, please don’t make me say it again, once was more than enough for me,” I reply.

“Nine?” I hear John’s voice, and it sounds…normal. I twist my head up, looking at John, and I immediately see his eyes. They’re no longer the completely black pits, but they’ve returned to their familiar striking blue shade.

“Oh God, Nine, what happened to you?” John’s face is horrified.

My heart leaps into my throat. “John-,” my voice catches in my throat. Unable to speak, I make a slightly rash decision. Gripping John’s face tighter, I pull it towards mine and rather unceremoniously crush our lips together. I hear John release a surprised gasp, his body tensing, but then he relaxes into my hold, and I realize he’s actually kissing me back. I pull away, panting. “Thank God you’re okay. You’re back.” All the relief I feel noticeable in my tone.

“What happened?” John asks. “Did-did I do this to you?”

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal. Just fix me up when we get out of here?” I crack a huge grin.

“Of course,” John replies. “Can you walk?”

I can only partially see John’s face from mine being so swollen, and I have no idea what shape I’m in, but the look on his face has me a bit worried.

John’s concerned face breaks into a smirk. “Did you just kiss me?”

My mind goes blank. Before I can get out even an attempt at an explanation, I hear the familiar scraping voice of the Mogadorien leader.

“Well, well, well, wasn’t that just…eughh…,” Setrákus Ra makes a rather unattractive face.

John’s face turns to steel as he twists his neck to look behind him. Setrákus Ra is stalking towards us with his arms crossed behind his back, a smug look on his face. “I had no idea you were capable of feeling, Nine.”

I attempt a scowl, though the condition my face is in disagrees. John begins rising to his feet, taking my arm and slinging it around his rather broad shoulders (not that I was even thinking about his shoulders), bringing me up with him.

“You’ve had your fun, Setrákus Ra, now please, just let us leave. We’re clearly in no condition to fight and I’m sure you have better things to attend to,” John speaks calmly, though I don’t know how. I’ll never understand how he manages to remain cool and collected no matter the circumstances.

Setrákus lets out a deep bellow. “The fun hasn’t even started.” Ra reaches behind his back and pulls forth a large silver sword. It’s glinting blade appears to pulse, like it’s alive with a beating heart. The Mog leader swings his weapon around, no doubt trying to show off, before he points it directly at Four. I feel his shoulders go rigid. I glance around the room, searching for John’s sword, when my eyes finally land on it. It lies a couple feet away in the place in landed when I kicked it. I nudge John, giving him a subtle motion at sword. He nods, removing my arm from around his back, letting me sit on the ground. Then he sprints to where his sword lies, collecting it and returning to the center of the raised floor. Ra’s scarred face splits into a menacing smirk as his body grows and he slashes his pulsating weapon towards Four.

(Number Four)

I barely jump back in time, narrowly dodging the sword’s edge. Ra immediately slices upward, but I throw my sword out and our weapons clash. I grit my teeth, struggling to stand my ground underneath the weight of Setrákus Ra. I fall to my knees; my only focus is preventing the Mogadorian leader’s sword from slicing through my skull. Ra pulls back, then swings towards me again, pushing forward. Our weapons collide and I fall from my knees to a sitting position. I avoid certain death by diving between Setrákus Ra’s legs, slicing into his flesh; thick black blood splattering onto my face. I hear Ra bellow, and he shrinks down to normal height.

I jump to my feet, but I’m too slow. I feel the edge of Ra’s blade slice through my Mogadorian armor like butter, kissing my skin. A sharp sting radiates from the cut through my entire body, causing the tips of my fingers and toes to tingle. Ignoring the pain, I thrust my sword downward, but Setrákus Ra throws his up to block my attack. The force he applies pushes me back and I stumble, but I’m able to keep him from making anymore attacks.

We’re so close I can practically taste his rancid breath, which is not pleasant at all. Ra’s lips curl into a menacing smirk. “So, Four, you and Nine? What about your little girlfriend, the human?” He taunts. I grit my teeth, baring them like a bloodthirsty animal. My vision goes red with rage. I gather up everything I can, every part of being, as I pull my shimmering blade back. With an enraged growl I drive my sword down. I apply so much force the weapon sinks past Setràkas Ra’s foot and straight into the raised platform of the room’s floor.

Ra howls, and I feel the draining affects of his Dreynan lift, which is what I was hoping would happen. Knowing my sword probably won’t hold him for long, I sprint over to Nine. Despite his protests and groans of disapproval, I scoop him up; one arm underneath his knees, the other under his back, and bound over to the door. Once we’re out and it’s shut, I let Nine down.

“Was that really necessary?” He asks me, his face in a scowl, though I notice his cheeks are a slightly darker shade than normal.

“Would you have been able to run out of there?” I retort.

Nine is silent.

“That’s what I thought. Now, let me heal you.” I reach out my hands and gingerly place one hand on Nine’s side, healing his broken ribs. Once I’m finished, I move my hand up to his face, healing that. When I finish, my hand continues to linger, cupping the side of his face.

“I can’t believe you-,”

“No, no, none of this mushy stuff,” Nine cuts me off, getting to his feet. “We just need to find a way off this ship and get back to the others. There’s no doubt in my mind they’re all freaking out, wondering where the hell I am.”

“You left them just to come find me?”

“Johnny, I told you, don’t get all sappy on me. I don’t do that sort of thing.”

I smirk. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that at all. I was just going to say how stupid you are.”

That gets an eye roll. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. I’m sure there’s an escape pod somewhere.”

I nod, then we sprint through the corridors, searching for a way out.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally stumble into a wide open space. Probably more by luck than anything, it happened to be the hangar, of sorts. Smaller Mogadorien aircraft are in position side by side, just waiting to escaped in. Nine and I give each other a high-five, then scramble over to the nearest one, climbing into it.

“Do you have any idea how to fly this thing?” Nine asks me as I slide into the pilot’s seat.

“I have a vague memory of how it works from when I was under Setrákus Ra’s mind control…,” I trail off as I take note of all the various dials, switches, and buttons. I close my eyes, trying to concentrate. Trying to remember what I knew when I thought I was a Mog is a little like trying to remember a dream after waking. I manage to grasp onto a fleeting memory. I begin flicking switches and pressing buttons in a seemingly random fashion, but the aircraft whirs to life, and the wall at the far end of the hangar opens, revealing the outside.

“Hold on tight,” I warn, my knuckles turning white from my grip on the steering wheel. Nine buckles his seatbelt and pulls it tight. I take a deep breath, then ease forward. I manage to place the aircraft directly in front of the large opening, the length of the hangar acting as a runway. I release the breath I held, flip a couple more switched, turn some dials, then push towards the door, gaining speed.

We barely make it halfway before the door Nine and I came through floods with Mogadorian soldiers, their blasters raised. They shoot at our getaway ship as I still drive it ahead. Despite the terrible aim of the soldiers, one of the shots of blaster fire hits something important, and I lose all control of the ship.

“Shit,” I mutter to myself. I unbuckle my seatbelt, and crane my neck to look at Nine. He must understand what’s happening, because he’s struggling with his belt too. We dive out of the Mogadorian aircraft just before it careens out of the the large opening. The Mog’s heavy-booted steps warn me that they’re gaining on us. Before I’m even on my feet, Nine runs toward me, grabbing hold of my hand, dragging me along with him in his sprint. My stomach leaps in both confusion and something else. At first I’m confused as to why we’re running to the exit, but then I realize Nine’s plan. We leave through the exit, but using Nine’s anti-gravity Legacy, we’re able to run casually on the belly of the Anubis.

“This is all great, Nine, but what do we do now?” I ask, a sour note in my tone.

“Just wait,” he commands. Nine looks as though he’s straining himself, like trying to hear something far away. I anxiously grip Nine’s hand, waiting impatiently for whatever might be coming. Then I hear I it: a low hum, audible only to my superior hearing. A sleek, circular shape glides through the sky, then loiters underneath us. It’s a ship, I realize. A familiar ship, though I can’t place how-

It’s our ship. The Loric ship. The one that brought us to Earth.

I look over to Nine and see a huge smile plastered onto face. I can’t help but reciprocate. A small circular hatch opens up on the top of the ship, and Nine lets go of my hand. I fall from the belly of the Anubis into the Loric ship, then Nine drops down right beside me. I’m immediately greeted by a pair of slim arms wrapping around my neck.

Sarah.

I slip my arms around her waist, welcoming her embrace. Over her shoulder I see Nine staring with a strange look on his face; one I’ve never seen on him before. When we pull apart, I see her face is wet with tears. I use my thumb to wipe her. “Hey, it’s ok. I’m okay,” I assure her.

“I know but I thought I'd…,” her voice trails off.

“Don’t think about that. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving again,” I promise. My moment with Sarah is interrupted when I hear yelling. I turn to the source.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Adam spits at Nine.

“I was thinking I was going to save my friend. And it looks like I succeeded,” Nine retorts with the same venomous tone. “If it weren’t for me, Four would still be a Mog soldier.”

“You made a stupid, rash decision. And you weren't even able to save Ella either!”

“Who the hell put you in charge?”

I turn to Sarah, “I better handle this.”

“Nine!” I call. He turns towards me. “Why don’t you come with me to check the ship out? Let everyone calm down.”

Nine simply nods, and we walk off.

(Number Nine)

For some reason I’m anxious about what John wants. We walk through the ship, leaving the others. Everything I see brings back snippets of memories from when we took the year long voyage from Lorien to Earth. As if reading my mind, John says, “This place certainly brings back some memories, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I nod in agreement.

“Listen, Nine-.”

“No, Johnny, you don’t have to say it. I know you’re with Sarah, and I accept that. There’s no more to talk about,” I state plainly.

John sighs. “Nine, just let me talk, okay?”

I move my hand in a gesture as if giving John permission to continue.

“It’s true that I do love Sarah. Henri always told me that once Loric fell in love, it was for life. But you…,” he trails off, stepping forward to place a hand on my arm. His touch is warm and gentle, as if he might startle me away. “I don’t know. You’ve opened something inside me, and now I’m not sure whether Henri was telling me the truth.”

I can’t think of anything to say, which is surprising for me. My throat feels tight in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time. I settle on saying, “Is that good?”

What the hell kind of response is that?

Four’s eyes crinkle, as if he’s confused, but nonetheless, he smiles. “I’m not entirely sure.”

I slip my hand over to the one Four has on my arm and fold my fingers around his, moving our hands in between us. “Look, I don’t expect you to have an answer or anything figured out, but hey, what’s the rush? We’ll figure something out. We always do.” I crack John a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Now, since you’ve calmed down, let’s get back to others. We all have some catching up to do, not to mention devising a plan to rescue Ella.”

At that, we reluctantly release our hold on each other, and make our back to the Garde and Co. 


End file.
